Welcome to the Family
by justfandomwritings
Summary: Steve Rogers woke up 66 years after he fell asleep. The world was made anew, and he couldn't recognize the America laid out before him. He didn't know where to go, what to do, or who to trust. But there was one thing of which Steve was absolutely certain, he could always count on a Barnes.


_May 19, 2012_

"Excuse me, Sir," A quiet voice interrupted.

Steve startled. He hadn't been aware of anyone coming in the room. Since he'd thawed out from the ice, his guard hadn't fallen once. At SHIELD's safe house, every creak put him on edge. With the Avengers, he was constantly looking over his shoulder. In his apartment, he checked each entry point four times an hour, every hour, including all hours of the night.

Something about being in this place brought those walls down. Maybe it reminded him of home.

"She's not woken up. Has she?" The polite nurse hung back in the doorway, not wanting to encroach on Steve's moment.

"No," Steve sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Not yet."

The nurse looked on with a sympathetic expression. "Visiting hours are over. Maybe there will be better luck tomorrow?" She sounded so young and hopeful.

Steve knew, despite her tone, that was his cue to leave and pushed to his feet.

"Maybe." He doubted he'd be back tomorrow, but this nurse didn't need to know that. Steve didn't think he'd have the guts to come back. It took everything in him to walk here that morning. Without the sheer adrenaline left in him after the Battle of New York, he was sure all of his heart and courage wouldn't have been enough to manage even the first trip.

Steve stepped up beside her bed and pressed a quick kiss to her aging forehead. "Goodnight Peggy," he whispered in her ear.

Peggy didn't stir in her slumber.

"I'll walk you out." The nurse stepped aside for Steve to pass by her.

"Thank you," Steve led the way. He'd memorized every hallway on his way to Peggy's room, in case a fight broke out or he needed to evacuate the building quickly. For the world, the war ended seventy years ago, but for Steve it felt like yesterday. It was hard for him to reckon the two in his mind, and the old habits just refused to die.

"Ms. Carter gets a lot of visitors," The nurse made small talk. "I'm sure she'd be happy to see you."

"I hope so," Steve half-heartedly replied.

"I was surprised you didn't go see the Private, or are you planning another trip for him?"

That caught Steve's ear. Her voice was light, and he got the feeling right from the start that she'd be chatty company. Chatty in a way he wasn't really interested in maintaining, but Private was a title that certainly caught his ear. "Private?"

"Private Gabriel Jones," The nurse pulled up, and Steve stopped with her. "Didn't you know?" She asked, confusion creasing her forehead in lines of what Steve had quickly learned to be fake tan, not that he understood the purpose of such an invention.

"Gabe is here?" Steve pivoted in the center of the walkway.

The doors in every hall were pristine white, just like the walls. There were no numbers, no name plates, no markings of any kind to distinguish one from the other. The rooms of each patient were relatively customized, but from the outside there was no telling one another apart.

Super Soldier Serum didn't let him see through walls, but it seemed this nurse would.

McKenzie, Steve read her name tag now, chewed on her bottom lip and checked around for any other members of staff. "Just a quick second. All right?"

Steve followed without hesitation as she waved him after her.

Facing Peggy felt like facing the life he lost, the love he could have had, the world he'd left behind. Hearing Gabe's name was less of a confrontation. He needed an old friend, even if the friend was quite literally old.

McKenzie knocked gently on a nondescript door at the end of the hall. "Sir," She called quietly as she peaked in the door. "I have someone here to see you, if you're feeling up to it."

"Feeling up to it?" A voice inside croaked. "Honey, I've never been better. Bring them in."

McKenzie opened the door and let Steve pass her by. "Keep it quick." She told him. "I'll wait outside."

Steve had to duck through the doorway, but once inside, he finds he wasn't the only one staying after hours.

Sitting on the end of the bed, facing the door, was a man who was certainly not a patient. He looked young for his age, not as young as Steve did for his; but he certainly took good care of himself. With a fair amount of certainty, Steve guessed that he had to be at least seventy, but a passing glance would've put him in his early fifties at the latest.

The man was still in good shape, and he filled out a broad-shouldered light grey suit that was clearly tailored to his frame and chosen carefully to contrast with his dark complexion. Only the brittle state of his skin and the lack of hair would really betray his age.

As Steve joined him, it was clear the man had been in a deep discussion with the true occupant of the bed.

Lying back beneath a pile of sheets and blankets, despite the hot weather outside, was a frail, elderly gentleman.

There wasn't much left of the man Steve knew in the 1940s. His facial hair was gone, now matching his shaved head. He'd lost all of his ample muscle mass. The lively young man was now confined to a bed, robbed of his favorite hobbies and unable to use his skills.

His face was wrinkled and worn, but his eyes were very much open. They flitted around, alert to every noise and movement going on around him. Despite his age, he was very much present in his own mind, something the nurses had warned Steve not to expect of Peggy.

"Gabe?" Steve took a hesitant step forward. Standing there, this spur of the moment excursion seemed a bad idea. It was too late to back out now, and he was never one to run from a fight.

The older man ran his gaze over Steve, once, twice, and a third time for good measure. "Well I'll be damned," He whispered.

"Sorry?" Steve took a few steps towards the bed, trying to hear.

"You haven't aged a day." There was a long pause in which Steve didn't know how to respond before Gabe ground out, "Damnit! I was hoping you'd lose an ear or something to the cold!"

"Dad!" The younger of the two men admonished, but Gabe didn't seem to hear him.

"I mean look at you! It was hard enough getting a girl in the 40s with you walking around! Now you still look like that, and I look like this?"

Steve didn't think he could smile wider. His face split in two at the jaw, and his cheeks hurt from how wide his lips pulled apart. "That's you alright." Steve wanted to laugh, but he just couldn't manage to with the overwhelming relief.

"Get over here, Brooklyn. Come meet my kid." Gabe tried to sit up in his bed, but a hand from his son held him down against the pillow. "Boy, it has been a long time since I got to stand and salute this man, and you're damn well going to let me."

Steve stepped forward and put a hand to Gabe's shoulder. "He might let you, but I won't."

"Ah, don't you go soft on me too, Cap." Gabe groaned in frustration.

Steve chuckled to himself and patted Gabe's arm as gently as he could manage. "No, I just don't like people saluting me."

Gabe made a noise not far from a snort. To say Steve didn't like being saluted was an understatement, and they both knew it. Steve hated the fanfare back in the forties. He hated the pictures and the fake smiles; he hated the pretensions and ceremony. The Howling Commandos used to mock salute him on occasion in front of press, just to get a rise out of him. Something told Steve, Gabe did not want to give him a mocking one now.

"Son," Gabe motioned the other man forward. "I never thought I'd get to say this, but I want you to meet the greatest man I've ever met."

The man in the suit nodded respectfully to Steve and stuck out his hand. "It's an honor to meet you, Captain."

"Don't you go calling him Captain America, now either." Gabe cut in quickly, pointing a shaky finger up at him. "That's Captain aren't about to let that USO crap Senator Brandt came up with go to his head."

"Call me Steve," Steve cut in with a smirk. He missed the Commandos' teasing as much as he missed anything. It made him feel normal, human.

"Grant Jones," Grant introduced himself with a chuckle.

Steve shot a glare down at Gabe in the bed. "You naming kids after me?"

Gabe shrugged, as much as he could padded back against the pillows. "Sue me. I thought you were dead. If I knew you were alive, I wouldn't have given you the ego boost."

"He named my younger sister Jamie." Grant added with a chuckle.

"Mm," Steve almost wanted to ask if she was pretty. With all the dames that went for Bucky in their lifetime, if Gabe was going to name one after him she probably should be. "Bucky would be honored."

"No he wouldn't." Gabe cackled. "He'd demand to know why you got my first born."

That was probably true.

A knock came at the door. "Captain America, we'll need to leave soon." The nurse called softly through the door.

"You got all the girls calling you that now?" Gabe asked.

Steve stuffed his hands uncomfortably in his pockets. The nurse had again provided a wake up call to where he was, more particularly when. "Can't say for sure, but I'll let you know."

"You better." Gabe tapped his son's leg, just within his reach. "Walk him out, son, and make sure the Cap comes by again."

"I will, Dad." Grant gave his dad's hand a squeeze and waved to the door. "After you, Steve."

"I'll see you soon, Gabe." Steve promised with a parting smile.

"Don't keep an old man waiting!" Gabe called as Grant opened the door for Steve to exit.

"I'm older than you, Gabe," Steve retorted as the door swung shut behind him.

"I take it your father was awake, Grant," McKenzie chirped up at Grant.

Grant gave a fond look to the young nurse. "Yes, he was. Will you check and make sure he gets some sleep later?"

"Of course. Let me show you out."

McKenzie conducted the pair down the hall and one flight of stairs before standing them in the glossy, modern reception area. "Please, come back soon." Her words were more for Steve than Grant, but she gave a polite wave to both of them regardless.

"Wow," Grant watched her go, "Dad's right. You really can't get a pretty girl to notice you when Steve Rogers is around."

Steve snickered. "Yeah," he mused, "you're Gabe's son."

Grant waved a hand to the exit. "Let's talk outside. I think they're going to lock us in soon."

Steve agreed and followed Grant out under the brightly lit front awning. "How's your dad doing?" Steve asked what he wanted to ask Gabe himself but knew he shouldn't.

Grant blew out a heavy breath. "He's been better, but the old man's still going strong. His mind's all there; it's his heart that's going to do it for him." Grant reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a phone. "When was it the doctor came by to see him?" He asked himself, swiping his thumb across the screen. "I think it was last Monday. Said he had a good while in him still."

Steve looked back at the building with a contented sigh, "I'm glad. He deserved a long, happy life."

"He got one." Grant affirmed.

"The others?" Steve asked, though he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"I," Grant paused and pondered what to say for a moment. The hesitation made Steve whip around to face his friend's son.

"Nothing bad," Grant quickly assured with a wave, dismissing Steve's worries. "I just don't think it's my place to say."

"Then who's is it?" Steve pressed.

Grant lifted up his phone's screen again and tapped at it for a few moments before turning it for Steve's eyes. "I think they should tell you themselves."

On Grant's screen was an email, or at least that's what Steve had heard Tony call them, with an invitation of some kind. The date was set in two weeks at 5:00 p.m. at a hotel whose address Steve quickly memorized.

"What's this?" Steve asked as he committed the screen's contents to memory.

"An invitation to a reunion."

"A reunion?"

Grant tucked his phone away, satisfied Steve knew what he needed. "Twice a year the families of the Howling Commandos get together. We change the second one around to be close to a different family every year, but there's always one in June, always at that hotel."

"And they come?" Steve didn't know much about this new world he'd woken up in, but he gathered that if they still got together after seventy years, it would be shocking.

Grant grinned as he nodded his confirmation, "Oh yeah, no one would miss it for the world."

Steve went quiet, thinking it over.

There couldn't be many of the Commandos left now; those that were had to be well over 100. If they did all get together, it would mostly be children, grandchildren. It would be reminders of the lives they lived without him, of the friends he lost, of the family he never had.

"Steve," Grant put a hand to his shoulder. "You should come, and not just because we'll all want to see you. I think you might need it."


End file.
